


Safehouses Are Boring

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7174268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy has a habit of getting borrowed from her desk job by other departments at SHIELD. And why, exactly, did they make a safehouse in the middle of suburbia?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safehouses Are Boring

“Get your feet off the desk.” The voice from the doorway sounded equally irritated and tired.

Darcy debated flipping him off, but just for a second. Her very presence at SHIELD was a fine balance of insubordination and doing whatever the fuck she was told. She was pretty sure that flipping Sitwell off would tip the scales and she'd end up needing to be reprimanded or something.

It wasn't like she had a bad job. SHIELD had sort of co-opted her in London, saying she knew too much to be running around by herself. Her job was, for the most part, pretty boring. Officially she was Fury's assistant. And Fury was cool, he didn't care that she never wore a suit, or put her feet on the desk, or anything like that.

Unofficially, though, it meant that she didn't do a whole lot and quite frequently got “borrowed” by other departments because Fury didn't trust _anyone_.

Like today, apparently. Because Sitwell had that _I have a job for you_ look in his eye.

“What's up, Sitwell?” she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

He stared at her for a second. “You're needed. Extraction.” He seemed to have decided her feet on the desk wasn't worth the argument.

Her eyebrows went up, her feet went down. “You mean driving?” Because she couldn't fly a quinjet, they refused to teach her. She'd never heard of an extraction being done by land-bound vehicle before, though. “Where to?”

“The GPS route has already been programmed into the vehicle.” The expression on his face turned a little smug. “You'll be picking up Agent Rumlow.”

Rumlow. She knew Rumlow, kinda, all dark and broody, and honestly kinda hot. Nice voice. STRIKE got to spend some one-on-one time with Fury sometimes, and since she was his gatekeeper...

Darcy got to her feet and walked over to where he was standing in the door. “I don't suppose you'd give me a hint on which level the car's parked on.” Because walking around the parking structure did _not_ sound like her idea of a good time.

He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and held them up in front of him. “Transportation didn't give me that information.”

Bullshit they didn't. Of course, calling Sitwell a liar probably wouldn't end well for her. She snatched the keys out of his hand and narrowed her eyes at him. “This is out in the middle of nowhere, isn't it?”

“Check in before you leave the safehouse in the morning.” He wasn't as good as Coulson was at expressing emotions with a completely bland look on his face. That was fair, Coulson probably had more practice.

“Does Fury know I won't be back until tomorrow?” It was her one chance of getting out of this, but it didn't seem very likely.

“He's fully aware of the situation, yes.” Smug as fuck.

She sighed, tucking the keys into her pocket. “Okay. You gonna send me a file or something?”

“It's already been emailed to you. Enjoy your drive, Agent Lewis.” He gave her a pleasant smile before turning and leaving the apartment.

“Fuck yourself,” she muttered at his back when she was sure he was out of earshot. There was an overnight bag in the bottom of her desk. She'd have to grab that, but then she'd be ready to go. And her phone charger, couldn't forget that.

It took about a half an hour of walking through the gigantic parking structure to find the black SUV that had been assigned to her. They all looked exactly the same, but this one beeped when she pressed the button on the key fob.

Sure enough, there was already a GPS route programmed in. She was going into... suburbia? “What the fuck?” Well, that would explain why a quinjet wouldn't work out too well. They probably wouldn't want it parked on their lawns.

She took the time to connect her phone to the SUV before backing it out of the parking spot and making her way down to the exit. The email waiting for her was from Sitwell, actually, and just told her a basic idea of what to expect where she was going, and protocol for driving back.

It was a long-ass drive to South Carolina. When Sitwell had first said the whole _in the morning_ thing, she thought he might have been exaggerating. But there was no way she was driving all the way from Columbia back to the Triskelion that night.

Darcy pulled into the driveway of the safehouse. She checked the address, double-checked it, checked it one more time to be sure. The last thing she wanted to do was bust into some stranger's house with her gun. That would be a lot of unwelcome attention, that was for sure.

There were lights on inside, that was a good sign. Right? Sighing, she turned the car off and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat before getting out. It was a warm evening, the fireflies were flitting around the front yard.

She had a key for the house in with the set that Sitwell had given her. She wasn't sure whether she should use them, though, or knock first. Just go in, right? That's why she had a key? Hopefully Rumlow wasn't the _shoot first_ type.

She unlocked the door and went inside.

Rumlow was standing in the middle of the living room, hands down by his side. His stance was loose, ready, like he was ready to kick some ass or something. He looked _good_. Deadly, but... good.

“Hi.” She stared at him for a second. “I'm _really_ hoping Sitwell told you that I was going to be your ride.”

His lips turned up in a smirk as his eyes moved over her. “My ride?” He did relax a little, though, he looked less like he was going to spring across the room at her.

“Extraction? Back to...” She trailed off, eyes narrowing. Judging by the way his smirk was _growing_ , he was giving her a hard time. “Uh huh. Good talk. Is there food, or am I going out to get takeout?” She'd eaten lunch on the road, but her stomach was beginning to growl again.

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen. “MREs.”

“Great.” She made a face, dropping her bag to the floor right where she was. “Takeout it is. You're probably not supposed to leave, so... Any requests?”

He looked a little bit taken aback by that. Maybe this wasn't standard extraction protocol? Whatever. Darcy was _not_ eating MREs. “You've got a phone, right?” she asked with a pointed look. “Find something in the area that you want and I'll go get it.”

The doorbell rang. She turned to look at it, eyes widening in question. Who the fuck would be at the door? She turned back to look at Rumlow, but he was suddenly and unexpectedly right beside her, making her jump.

His fingers brushed her hip as he eased her ICER out of her holster. He moved silently as he took up position behind the door and motioned to it with his head.

Darcy took off her holster and tossed it into another room before turning and taking the couple steps back to the door to open it.

Whatever she'd been expecting, it was _not_ the brunette on the other side with a warm smile and a plate of cookies. “Um, hi?”

“Hi! Y'all just moved in, right? Welcome to the neighborhood! I'm Karen, I live just next door.” She glanced at the narrow strip between the door and the door frame that Darcy had left, trying to peer around her. “I saw lights on earlier, and I thought I'd make you a little something to welcome you to your new home.”

“Thank you. That's great.” Darcy pushed open the door a little more and reached out to take the plate of cookies. Karen's eyes flew to the newest part of the room behind her that was revealed. That had nothing but her backpack in it. She needed an excuse for that. “I'd invite you inside, but our truck hasn't shown up yet, and there's nowhere to sit.” She made a face. “Don't even have a coffee machine.” Okay, she wasn't sure about that part, but she was trying to sell the role so the lady wouldn't get all suspicious.

“Is it just you, or...?” Karen's eyes widened guilelessly.

Karen had probably noticed the lights on before Darcy pulled up in the SUV. She might even have seen him. “Uh, no. Brian, my husband, he's around here somewhere.” Darcy fought the impulse to look over at Brock. “Sorry, I'm Darlene.”

“Well, Darlene, did you wanna come on over for some coffee?” There was another warm smile, and Darcy could see all of the local gossip swimming behind the other woman's eyes.

“That is super nice of you, but we were just getting ready to think about dinner. I'm _starving_.”

“Who's there, babe?”

Darcy looked over to see Rumlow moving towards her like he'd just come in from another room or something. Her ICER was nowhere in sight. She nudged the door open a little more with her foot. “This is Karen, she lives next door.”

“Hi, Karen, I'm Brian.” They shook hands for a second, and then his arm settled around Darcy, his hand splaying over her hip. She let herself relax against his side like they'd done this a million times. Up close, he smelled nice. And his upper body was suspiciously wall-like, like either his shirt was made out of concrete or he worked out on the regular. Of course, considering how much his black t-shirt clung to him, she was pretty sure she knew which it was.

Karen's eyes widened a little bit, but she gave him one of her warm smiles too. “Are you from around here?”

“No, we're new to the area.” Darcy tried to give her best _go away now_ smile, but it didn't work any better on Karen than it did on Sitwell. Maybe SHIELD should hire suburban moms. She quelled a sigh and rested her head against Rumlow's shoulder.

Karen kept up the small talk until Darcy's stomach _actually_ growled. “Well, I won't keep you,” she finally said. “Don't be a stranger.” With one last glance between them, Karen turned and walked down the concrete path until she was a respectable distance away from the house before turning and cutting across the yard to her own house.

Darcy sighed as she moved inside, hooking her foot around the door and pushing it closed. “Good times. Aren't you supposed to be, like, hiding out?” She looked over her shoulder at him as she headed to where she could see the beige carpet turning into some sort of linoleum. It was a safe assumption that it would be the kitchen. “And where's my gun?”

She set the plate on the counter, and when she turned around, she nearly bumped her nose on his chest. She stared up into his dark eyes for a moment before remembering exactly what was going on. “Jesus Christ! I'm gonna get you a fucking bell while I'm out getting dinner.” She was totally blaming it on her long day.

He smirked, reaching behind himself to come out with her ICER. He offered it to her.

Sighing, she took it. Her holster was on the floor over the entryway. “I'm gonna have to leave it here, aren't I?” Not that she _liked_ wearing a gun, she always felt a little lopsided and awkward. But it was _her_ gun, she'd had to sign a million and a half pages of paperwork for it and everything. Made her feel extra responsible about it. Sitwell's email had told her that she couldn't carry it in South Carolina, though, unless she wanted to show her SHIELD badge, which would draw attention...

“MREs are right up there.” Rumlow pointed behind her. He was still awfully close, not that she kinda actually minded...

She made a face. “Yeah. Did you pick somewhere to get food from yet?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Have I had a chance yet?”

“If you wanna eat MREs, I will happily go out and get food for myself.” She slipped out and around him, snagging a cookie off the plate as she went. “And then eat it _at_ you.” They weren't bad. Some sort of sugar cookie. She had a couple more before he finally decided what he wanted.

* * *

 

When Darcy came back, it was fully dark outside, and she'd already eaten most of her fries on the way home. She'd also stopped to pick up some baggies because, you know, cookies.

Rumlow was standing there in the middle of the living room again when she let herself in, but this time he seemed to relax right away.

She held up the bag of food. “I have dinner.” Her eyes narrowed as she thought about something. “Is there actually anywhere to sit down and eat?” Because there was carpet on the floor, but that didn't sound like a whole lot of fun after spending the day sitting in her car.

“There's a bed.” He gestured off down the hall.

“Yeah.” She started towards the hall, then stopped before she'd even made it past him. She looked up at him, took in the slight smirk on his face. “Wait. How many beds are there?”

“One.” He gestured towards the hall. “Last door on the right.”

She stared at him. She'd had a long-ass day. All she wanted to do was sit down somewhere halfway comfortable, finish eating, maybe fuck around on her phone for a while, and then go the fuck to sleep. “I swear to god, Rumlow, if you snore I am taping your mouth shut. Please tell me you at least made the bed while you were sitting around doing nothing?”

“Of course.” Like it should have been obvious. Well, that was something, anyway. He fell in step just behind her as she headed down the hall to where the indicated door was already open. “And here I was expecting some kind of protest about your maidenly virtue.”

She'd just taken a drink of her soda, and she choked, the bubbles stinging as they went up her nose. Thankfully he took the bag and her drink from her as she coughed and spluttered in the middle of the hall.

When she'd subsided down to just the occasional cough, she turned back to get at least her drink back from him, and the faintly arched eyebrow combined with the slight smile on his face made her laugh. Which, of course, turned into another coughing fit. “Yeah. We'll go with that.”

They did make it to the bedroom. Eventually. Darcy sighed, her eyebrows raising a little. Not only were they sharing a bed, but it was a double bed. Well, at least Rumlow was relatively lean. She found herself wondering idly what he looked like with his shirt off. Well, _that_ wasn't appropriate. She promised herself she wouldn't ogle him. At least... Not much.

He was watching her as she pulled the rest of her food out of the bag and set it up on one of her cheeseburger wrappers in front of her.

She peered up at him. “What?”

“I expected more noise about having to share a bed, maybe some brave words about sleeping on the floor.” It sounded like he could have been giving her a hard time again? Maybe?

She rolled her eyes. “After I _drove_ here from DC? I don't think so. I don't want to destroy any assumptions you have about me, but this isn't _exactly_ the first time I've shared a bed with someone. And I'm assuming that being all, 'I'm a badass field agent!' you've probably spent your fair share of time sleeping in close quarters with other people. Although...” She grinned at a sudden thought. “I'd love to see you and your partner or whatever try to fit in here.” What was his name? Roman? Roland? Whatever. Dude was huge.

Which actually begged the question of where he was. From what she'd seen, usually they worked together. She knew better than to ask, classified and all, but... Maybe it had something to do with why she'd driven down to suburbia to pick Rumlow up.

They sat and ate in silence. His diet ran high to protein, and a lot of it, which didn't exactly surprise her. Darcy was used to feeding people who led very physically active lives. She was done way before he was, though, so she kicked off her shoes and sat against a pillow at the head of the bed, fucking around on her phone. There were distant thoughts about getting the cookies into baggies because otherwise they'd just go in the trash, and that was a lot of cookie to waste. That could wait, though. She was going to have to get up to get her backpack, anyway.

The paper bag crumpled took her attention from the phone. She looked up to see Rumlow standing at the end of the bed, the garbage balled up in his hands. He caught her eye for a moment before turning and leaving the room, and when he came back he sat down on the other side of the bed with his own phone.

She eyed his boots. “Are you seriously putting those on the bed right now?”

He looked down at his heavy black boots before turning to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “Instead of...”

“ _Not_ putting your gigantic boots that are covered in god-knows-what on the fucking bed I'm going to be sleeping on? No one wants to sleep in your mystery boot crap.” She eyed him for a moment. “ _You_ know where your boots have been, do you really want to cuddle up to them to sleep?”

He stared wordlessly back at her for a second, then dropped his feet back over the side of the bed.

“Yeah. That's what I thought.” Darcy turned her attention back to her e-book. She looked up a second later, though, as Rumlow got up off the bed.

He peeled off his shirt. And yeah, definitely worked out on the regular. She realized she was staring as he cleared his throat.

Her eyes darted up to his face and she shrugged, going for a nonchalance that she wasn't really feeling. “Well, if you're gonna put on a show for me...”

“I'm not putting on a show, I'm just taking off my shirt.” The amusement in his voice matched the little smirk. “I usually don't sleep with one on.” Well, that answered _that_ question.

“Yeah. I've spent a considerable amount of time with guys with clearly visible muscles, and I know what flexing looks like. I mean...” Her heart was pounding up in her ears, but her voice was totally steady. “Don't stop on my account.” Wait. Was she in for a sexual harassment workshop when they got back? _She_ was probably the one who should stop.

She looked back down at her phone again, licking her lips as she scanned over the words without really taking them in. “Hey, are safehouses usually this boring? I mean, I'm glad I brought my phone, because unless you found something while you were waiting, it looks like there's nothing else to do.”

“Oh, I'm sure we could find something to do.” The bed dipped as he sat down again. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, the broad expanse of his back shifting as he moved around. Taking off his boots? Probably a safe bet.

He sat back against the headboard again, taking out his own phone and looking at it. It was hard to concentrate on her phone when he was right there, all half-naked and fucking hot, but she managed. Mostly. Being stuck in a safehouse was boring, though, she was glad she didn't have to do this too often.

Eventually she got up and went to go get her backpack. First, though, the cookies had to go away. They could drop of Karen's plate before they took off in the wee hours of the morning, but the cookies would totally be good road-trip food.

She got ready for bed in the bathroom. Darcy usually slept naked, but there was no way that was going to happen when she was sharing a double bed with Rumlow. Not that that couldn't be fun... She shook her head, banishing the thought. SHIELD probably had rules about that type of thing. So instead she pulled the over-long t-shirt out of her backpack and changed into that, leaving just her panties on underneath.

His eyebrow rose sharply as she came back into the room, his gaze fastening pointedly at where the hem of the shirt met her thighs.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Is this just all too scandalous? Is that why you were asking about my maidenly virtue, you were worried about your own?” She walked over and set the backpack down on her side of the bed. “Don't worry, my legs will be plenty covered up just as soon as I get into bed.” There was an outlet just beside the bed, and she made sure to get her charger all plugged in.

She pulled the blanket and the sheet underneath out from under the mattress and slid into the bed. She'd been lying on this side of the bed, so the sheets weren't cool, but they still held that amazing essence of clean sheets. She let out a pleased sigh, stretching her arms up above her head. “I wonder who does housekeeping on the safehouses?”

Rumlow looked at her, eyes narrowed like this was maybe something he hadn't considered before. He shrugged, though. “I guess it's someone. They'll probably dump this one, though. Safehouses are usually out where no one else will notice the new traffic, but there are a few like this around.”

“Yeah, I gotta tell you, I was pretty surprised when I saw I was driving into the middle of suburbia.” She looked up at him, her eyes lingering on the dark stubble along his jaw for a moment. “I gravitate towards heat sources when I sleep.”

“You're shitting me.”

“I'm not, actually. So if you _are_ worried about your maidenly virtue, I would definitely make protesting noises about sleeping on the floor.” She rolled over onto her side, facing away from him, and picked up her phone again.

She'd gotten a little more used to sleeping in strange spaces after she'd started her internship with Jane. It wasn't long before her eyes were drooping, taking longer to come back open between each blink. She set the phone down on the floor and settled in to sleep.

Sure enough, she woke up with her back pressed against the length of his side. It was dark, he'd evidently turned off the light at some point. But it was still dark, the room lit only dimly by the lights outside, which meant it was still some time in the middle of the night.

Darcy shifted a little, starting to move away from him, but before she really got anywhere she felt him turn. His arm snagged around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

He pulled her hair back out of the way until she could feel his breath tickling over her ear. “I thought you were joking.”

“About the gravitating towards heat sources?” She shook her head. “Nope. I've always done that, I'm the worst to sleep with.”

“I woke up...” His lips brushed over the outside curve of her ear, his fingers splaying across her belly. “Thought you were starting something after you wouldn't stop eye-fucking me earlier. But you were still fast asleep.”

“Yeah.” She probably should move away. Right? Totally should. That should be a thing that she should be doing. Except she _wasn't_. Instead she was noticing how warm he felt through her t-shirt, how even the barest touch against her skin was sending tingles through her. “I wasn't eye-fucking you, by the way. Just looking a little. Because you were _posing_.”

Brock nipped at her ear. “Probably be a good idea if you slept over here so you don't wake me up again.”

“Yup. That's, uh...” His fingers were drifting down towards the hem of her shirt, which had twisted up around her waist while she was sleeping. “That's a good idea. Is this, though? I mean...” She paused, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “SHIELD has rules, don't they?”

“Babe, I've seen you at work. I don't think you're too worried about the rules.” His fingers slipped under her shirt and tickled up over the curve of her stomach.

The edge of his teeth against her ear had her gasping, eyes falling shut. She reached back for him, her hands sliding along the smooth fabric of the shorts he'd apparently had on under the pants.

His palm brushed over her nipples, shifting back and forth between them until they stiffened into tight buds. She arched into him, trying to get more contact against the sensitive skin. It felt good, she wanted more.

His stubble prickled against the hollow just behind her ear and she sucked in a gasp. He made a very satisfied sound and did it again until she pressed her fingers into his hip as jolts of heat twisted through her. “You like that?”

“I'm a bit sensitive there.” Apparently. She arched her head over into the pillow as much as she could, pulling her shoulder down so he'd have some more room.

He rolled one pert nipple between finger and thumb as his mouth worked against her neck. He plucked and twisted until she couldn't keep still, shifting into his touch.

Darcy slipped her hand down the back of his shorts, sliding across the taut muscle of his ass. “I think we're wearing too much.”

“Yeah?” He gave her a sudden pinch that had her crying out, the pleasure sharp-edged and intense as it shot straight down to her cunt. “We should change that then.”

Brock helped her out of her shirt, and she slipped off her panties and tossed them over the side of the bed. She was about to roll onto her back, but his hand on her hip urged her onto her stomach instead.

She propped herself up on her forearms so she was a little more comfortable and looked over at him. “What are you doing?”

“This.” One finger slid slowly down along her spine, so lightly that a shiver crawled along after it. Lower and lower he went, down into the small of her back. His palm cracked against the side of her ass, sending a rush of heat to her skin. “Spread your legs.”

She shifted her legs apart, and he moved around behind her. She felt the bed dip as he knelt between them.

His hands were warm as they stroked up the back of her legs, his thumbs tantalizingly gentle against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. They went up higher and higher until they were sliding against her core. One slipped up easily into her pussy, and she arched her back as much as she could. “You're so fucking wet.”

She groaned, her head dropping down to rest against her arms. “God, I need you to fuck me.” Her whisper carried easily in the hush of the room.

He pumped his digit in and out a few times before slipping it free. She felt him moving behind her, felt his thighs against hers as he rubbed the head of his cock along her center. “You want this?”

She nodded, teeth clamped tightly on her lip as he nudged against her clit. He did it again and again until she was rocking back into him but it wasn't enough. She reached back for him.

He caught her wrist, bringing it around in front of her and pressing it against the headboard. “You want this?” he asked again, his erection pushing just inside her empty cunt. The solid weight of his body pressed against her kept her from moving back against him to take him deeper inside.

“God, _please_!” Darcy sucked in a gasp as he thrust into her. It wasn't deep like this, the angle was wrong, but he caught over that one perfect spot.

He picked up a steady rhythm, his fingers biting into her wrist as he rolled into her. She didn't have a lot of leverage, but she moved back into him as much as she could, shifting her hips up and back. Sensation spiraled through her, the heat that had started deep in her body narrowing in.

Everything still for just the barest of moments, and then she came with a long sigh. He swore as she clenched around his cock, but he kept up the same steady pace, driving into her again and again.

It wasn't too much longer, though, before his movements began to grow jerky. He thrust into her once, and then again, and then he stiffened against her. He fell to the side instead of collapsing on top of her, thankfully, and she rolled over to face him.

Brock pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face. “You need to be on your other side to sleep.” She could hear the smirk in his voice, even though it was too dim to make out an exact expression. “And I meant it, I don't want you waking me up all night long with that ass rubbing up against me.”

She gave him a look that he probably didn't see. Oh well, it made her feel better. “I need to go get cleaned up.”

“Better hurry, then. Long day tomorrow.”

Darcy went out to the bathroom, and when she came back she could see he'd rolled onto his side. Was he already sleeping? The answer turned out to be no. She got into bed and shifted back against him, and his arm settled securely across her waist again. Oh well, at least now she didn't have to sleep with clothes on.

 

**Author's Note:**

> BED SHARING! *points* One of my favoritest tropes.


End file.
